A Mind Lost At War, A Memory Scattered Through Time
by Baranohana0980
Summary: Time Travel AU, Slightly OP! Naruto, an AU where Naruto loses his memories. He remembered the grips of cold water, but couldn’t remember anything else. His mind was scattered all over the place. When he saw four nins, he started to feel... something... What were these feelings? What happened? Who were they? Who was he?
1. Chapter 1

_Human Thinking_

Human Talking

 _Flashback_

 ** _Bijuu talking_**

He could see it.

The smoke that covered the once bright blue sky-the bodies that lay on top of each other faces distorted and would have been labeled as "unknown" if he hadn't witnessed their deaths-and the empty, emotionless eyes that were once full of hope and determination.

He could see the once living children's eyes; frightened yet full of hope for a new day. For a new future. Even in the last seconds of life, they held onto what little hope they had and asked for their friends' safety and peace for the future. When the parents found out about their children's death, their eyes would be filled with-not only tears-but betrayal. And they would mourn. Every single one of them grieved. They all yearned for their children's lives.

He could feel it: the warm tears that would run down his face when he grieved, the feeling of his comrades' warm blood that remained on his hands no matter how hard he scrubbed. And he could feel the betrayal in everyone's hearts after each, and every single one of his promises was broken.

The promises he made were never met. They were always shattered into pieces of broken glass.

Promises for hope-shattered.

Promises for peace-broken.

Promises for the reunion of families-torn.

"Those words, 'I'll never let my comrades die,'" Obito mocked. "Now look around you and say it again!"

The blonde did. Bodies piled on top of each other, thorns and bones impaled through their flesh.

He hated Obito, even more, that day.

He hated Obito for making him grieve, for killing his friends.

But after Obito's real death and the disappearing of a silver-haired nin's Sharingan, the Uzumaki forgave the old Uchiha, no matter how many crimes he committed.

That was when he believed everyone deserved forgiveness. That was before he became the hokage. Before the war that had killed millions.

"As the bodies of your comrades grow cold in your arms, take in their deaths!" He remembered those words as clear as day now that the bodies of his friends' corpses fell around him like dominoes.

He could hear it: the screaming of people giving it their all only to end up in the cruel hands of death. The stomping of feet onto the blood-soaked ground. And the whispers of his people begging for their loved ones to be spared, some weeping with a sad smile on their face to see their friends and families one last time before they fell into their eternal rest.

A cruel death that forced its way into the mind of his wife, Hinata, who had died in his arms while she whispered rambles of how she was proud of their children and how she wished to see them grow up into great shinobi, before slowly closing her eyes.

He couldn't bear it-seeing as they all took their final breaths they held regret. Always about family. Always about never-ending friendship.

He could feel it: the burning flames that wanted to reach out and engulf him in their deadly embrace; to punish him and send him to the depths of Hell for him to atone for his sins. But they never did. They never could.

He could feel it, see it, hear it all: the hellish screams-the whispers of death that threatened him in his sleep, replying his comrade's death-the pain that engulfed his whole body-the people of all the hidden villages reaching out to sacrifice themselves to save him and the many children that had yet to see the blinding sun, the green grass that used to cover most of the land, and the blue waves of the ocean that surrounded Umi No Kuni.

He almost remembered the cold touch of water that engulfed his hands when he reached down to catch a meal. That was before the river was mixed with blood; before all the ash and wood made the once clean water undrinkable.

He watched as his pink-haired teammate burn to ashes trying to save a child that was targeted by a fireball user. Of course, shortly after, the child had died from committing suicide.

The leader couldn't blame him; poor boy saw many things he shouldn't have at a young age, but at the same time, the pink-haired kunoichi's sacrifice was wasted.

Much like the other sacrifices from the other companions.

They would all rise up from the dead only to kill their friends. They would all be used as puppets.

And soon they burned the dead to ash and dust. They would carry off into the wind and mix with the charred soil.

The people around him were like pillars, holding him up so he wouldn't break apart and fall into insanity.

That was, what was left of the people important to him.

Then came the day when someone sacrificed themselves for him. The damn kusarigama was aimed at HIM. The leader. Not the teacher he cared about.

And yet again the lecturer sacrificed himself for the younger student.

The damn enemy-nin got a quick but painful death in the mere span of two seconds in the hands of a furious Hokage.

"Do not cry over our sacrifices," his teacher whispered, trembling in his student's arms. "Instead, be happy. Be the leader you are and lead the next generations with a smile. Lead them to a peaceful future. Promise me that." The father figure held back a flinch when the pain in his wound throbbed harshly, the adrenaline no longer numbing the pain. He pressed his hands against his student's tear-stained face, wiping away the warm drops of liquid that ran down his tan, scarred cheeks.

The younger man choked, "Sensei, you know-"

"Promise me!" the teacher yelled pleadingly, interrupting the blonde in the middle of his hopeless doubts only to wince in pain and let out a pained groan.

The blue-eyed male grimaced. Said man hated this. He never asked for this.

The younger male stared down at his former teacher. The scar that was cut across the older man's nose didn't compare to the heavily bleeding wound that was on his stomach.

The Nanadaime took in an unsteady breath before letting out a slow and quiet "I promise."

At that, the chocolate haired man grinned weakly and trembled as he reached for his student's hair to ruffle. The blue-eyed man gave his teacher a small smile, knowing that the older man would not want to see his student frown, especially when he was dying in his student's arms.

Calloused hands made contact with bright blonde hair, somehow messing it up even more. The tan man's blue eyes blurred. He blinked and felt the trickle of warm liquid slide down his cheeks, past his permanent whisker-like scars, stinging his laceration that was healing on its own.

"I am very proud of you," the older man paused, took a deep breath, then continued, "Please do not lose sight of what's important. The sacrifices we made are for the future generations. For you. Do what you must to protect what's left of the village. We are shinobi. We do not die in vain. We only die to protect and serve-" he let out a violent cough. He retreated his hand from the cerulean-eyed man's hair.

Said man shut his eyes, unable to stop his tears from spilling out from his orbs that had cried too many tears, that had adjusted to the smoke that had smelled of burning flesh, that had seen too many deaths of his village--his family--that had been forcefully pushed into the hands of death.

"My time is running out," the chunin murmured to himself, hoping the younger shinobi wouldn't hear; but he did. Cerulean eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed together as the shinobi concentrated, calculating solutions in his head to save at least ONE person in this cruel world. His eyes flashed with messages of desperation. The chunin mentally cursed at himself but smiled anyway.

"I'm sorry," he awkwardly chuckled, then winced when he felt his whole body being jerked into a tight embrace from the Nanadaime. Salty drops of liquid formed in his eyes. He slowly wrapped his arms around his student's torso, ignoring the pain from his heavily bleeding wound.

"I'm very proud of you, Naruto," he finally whispered.

The hokage's breath hitched. The blonde long since abandoned that name and now hearing it once more sounded so...foreign.

Was there really nothing he could do? Anything?

He tried medical ninjutsu. Nothing. No results. No blood was stopping no matter how much chakra he channeled to his hands.

He cursed at himself for not listening to the pink-haired kunoichi. If only he took the time to listen and watch. If only he hadn't slept during her lesson. If only he knew this war was going to last for two years.

This was his fault. Every scream, every wound, every tear, every death-all of the bad that came from this war-it was all his fault.

With short breaths and squinted eyes, his father-figure ordered, "Naruto, listen. Look at me."

The younger man hesitantly obliged.

"None of this is your fault. None of it," the scarred man said. "I believe-no-I know you will win this war."

"Iruka-" the jinchuuriki began but then was interrupted again.

"You will."

The younger man said nothing. He was still processing every second of this moment. He was even thinking about ways he could save his teacher that was like a father to him. The chocolate brown haired man was one of the few people who were kind to him. Who treated him like a person, not an evil bijuu that had tried to kill their village a few decades earlier.

"Naruto, I want you to remember us not in sorrow, but in happiness, pride, and honor," Iruka whispered weakly, suddenly feeling cold. "Although we are dead and gone, the memory and love we give you will carry on and stay inside your heart." Iruka felt tired and couldn't feel his limbs. It was getting harder to breathe.

Naruto smiled grimly, "You're right, Iruka. I just have to keep going no matter what. I will not put your sacrifices to waste." Determined, he narrowed his eyes, a fire burning inside for the first time in years. "I will absolutely win the war, no matter how close I am to death, dattebayo!"

Iruka chuckled hoarsely and whispered a final, "I'm so proud of you" before darkness consumed him.

The seventh Hokage felt Iruka's body stop trembling. The arms that were wrapped around his torso dropped limp. Naruto felt the bleeding body weigh down on his own and heard an exhale come out of his teacher's mouth one last time.

"Iruka-sensei?" Naruto called out quietly.

No.

"Iruka! Hey!"He exclaimed, smiling as if he were being played in a dirty prank, even though the jinchuuriki knew he wasn't.

Not now.

He pulled away from his teacher, hands gripping both of his former teacher's shoulders tightly.

Just one more minute. One more minute of laughing. One more minute of hearing his adopted father's voice. Only one more minute was good enough, goddammit, please!

Naruto's smile dropped as realization washed over him like a tsunami.

Iruka Umino was gone. Iruka Umino was dead.

And he's never coming back.

A shrill cry echoed through the air. It was lonely and desperate. The noise ripped through Naruto's throat as if warning him to be quiet. It was a warning that told him not to show any weaknesses because he was only a mere shinobi. It was when he clenched his teeth and glared at the sky he came back to reality. He failed another comrade. Another life that could have been saved if he had just paid attention.

The echoes of his teacher's words took over his mind.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Do not cry over our sacrifice."

Those words confused the young Hokage.

Confused his emotions.

He wanted to be brave, to fight for the children of the village; but at the same time, he wanted to cry, to weep for yet another failure. For another death that would forever haunt his dreams.

Once the blonde finally calmed down, he got up and laid his teacher down into a more comfortable position. It was more respectful this way, right?

The Nanadaime Hokage took one last look at the chuunin before turning his back. There was warmth in his chest, and there was a rush. A rush he hadn't felt for a long, long time.

The choice was made.

Determination flashed in his eyes like lightning. A fire was burning in his soul as he dusted himself off with a fox-like grin graced onto his face.

"Let's do this, dattebayo!"

The real hell had only just begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Any character's names that might seem unrecognizable are not the canon characters... obviously. I am just creating new enemies that can overpower Naruto or maybe have equal amounts of power just to throw him off a little bit. I'll try not to use any of the canon enemies' names because I know Naruto can overpower them. However, any made up names I have used that might sound like anybody that you know is completely coincidental. I do not own Naruto which should also be pretty obvious. Though, if I did own it, let's just say the show would be canceled and the manga would never be read. Also, sorry for the late update. The school has me procrastinating on this story haha. Having said that, enjoy! Thank you for reading this author's note..._**

 _Human Thinking_

Human Talking

 _Flashback_

 ** _Bijuu thinking_**

 **Bijuu talking**

Ten years passed and the fire in his heart faded.

The countless deaths continued as did the chorus of screams.

Sometime along the many years of war, the leader stopped talking. He stopped screaming. Stopped caring. Of course, he still was determined to fight for what was left of the world, that is if there was any part of the world left. The promises he had yet to fulfill were all shattered. He had failed everyone that had believed him. The many years of meaningless pledges sewed his mouth shut, made his heart empty. Empty because no one was left in the world that he could care for.

It continued: bodies after bodies, blood after blood, tear after tear. They never stopped.

The day finally came when he and the exhausted enemy, Hakai, were left.

Hakai's selfishness and greed killed everyone. All because he thought he was the most powerful person in the world. That would have been true, if Naruto, the Hokage, hadn't been born. Still. Still….

They were all gone: the genin, the jounin, ANBU, the children, everyone. They were all gone because of him. They were all gone from this world, never to exist again because of the Hokage himself.

Even so, Naruto Uzumaki, the seventh Hokage of the fallen Konohagakure, kept fighting.

Keep at least one promise and accomplish it.

The Kyuubi remained silent, only handing over power when needed and advice when his container was on the edge of insanity. The bijuu was indeed angry, but surprisingly, not as mad as the furious Naruto.

The blonde was exhausted.

Both him and Hakai were.

Still, the fight continued. Even after killing millions of people, thousands of children, and hundreds of infants, the enemy kept going. After all, to him, there is no mercy in a land of full of genocide.

Hakai let out a dark cackle, then sighed.

"It seems I am running low on chakra, jinchuuriki," he smirked, mockingly staring at the winded and chakra-depleted blonde. "This is your loss. You die here."

Angered, the seventh Hokage lunged at Hakai with a cold, rusted kunai. Hakai quickly dodged, speedily running through hand signs that were almost impossible to read. Almost. Naruto recognized these signs: monkey, dragon, rat, bird, ox, snake, dog, tiger, then monkey again. Thousands of birds sang their empty tunes, but they weren't there. The sound-it came from the crackling ball of chakra in Hakai's hand.

Chidori.

That belonged to Sasuke and Kakashi.

That jutsu belonged only to Sasuke and Kakashi.

Naruto listened carefully to the sound, the noise reminding him of the day both him and his best friend lost their arms. It was the sound he heard when they battled each other.

It was the sound he heard before Kakashi and Sasuke died.

One thousand twittering birds that were non-existent whistled so loud, it made Naruto want to…

No.

He must not show such weaknesses. Emotions like these would only get him killed.

He needed to fulfill that promise.

The nanadaime inhaled the air that smelled of steel and smoke, the scent reminding him of the end and told him that death shall serve if he won.

"If I am to die," the jinchuuriki growled for the first time in years, "you are to die with me."

Hakai took a step back, almost as if he was surprised at the jinchuuriki's reveal of emotions after years of the same 'leave me to die' attitude. Hakai released a loud, manic laugh.

"Finally!" Hakai cheered, lunging himself towards the bijuu container, Chidori in hand. "Now I can have fun!"

Dust flew behind Hakai as he stomped onto the ground with each foot at an inhuman speed. Naruto stood still, hands forming the last jutsu he would ever want to do. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of his slowly beating heart.

He was calm.

He was ready.

He took in the sound of birds that whistled tunes of death. Of course, the birds were fake, for it was only the Chidori.

Naruto slowly opened his eyes, the world going in slow motion as he sadly watched the Chidori reach out to him like lighting, begging to be retrieved to its rightful owners. The blonde lifted his hand that held the swirling Rasengan.

 _Their bodies lie next to each other on top of the cold rock. Blood was trickling at an odd angle on the stone from where their arms used to be, connecting to each other and joined together to create an illusion of one hand holding the other._

 _They were bruised. Scratched and battered and covered in sweat after fighting. Four years of searching and this is what had costed them._

 _It was when the sun had begun to rise did the teenage Uchiha wake up from his dream. He watched as the rays scatter to the sky and touch the clouds to make them look like cotton candy. The valley that surrounded them almost seemed comforting now that the battle was finally over._

 _It seems we have failed to die again," Sasuke mused. Naruto couldn't move. Every time he tried his whole body would engulf him in a wave of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut out of pure frustration._

 _Damn it! I still can't move!" The blonde exclaimed. "I was hoping to punch you hard and make you finally open your eyes."_

 _The Uchiha chuckled softly, then that soft chuckle turned into a fit of laughter. Naruto turned his head to look at his friend-emy and shot him a confused look._

 _Then he heard something from the black-haired nin that almost made him want to choke him._

But at the same time, those exact words came out of Hakai's mouth:

 _We're messed up like this_ , and you still want to fight?"

The way Hakai said it was twisted. It was as if he were mocking Sasuke. Mocking him as his dust flew in the breeze that used to carry leaves and loose grass.

Even so, the blonde stood up straight and smiled a somewhat reminiscent smile.

He said, "Damn right. No matter how many times it takes, no matter how much blood I have lost, I will defeat you."

Naruto took a step, then as if like lightning, he struck forward, blood-covered kunai in one hand, rasengan in the other. Massive clouds of dust flew behind him, as if the people of the hidden villages stood behind him, supporting him and proudly smiling at him.

A bright light blinded them both. Blood splattered onto the already blood-covered dirt and dust flew up around them due to the impact of the blow.

Hakai smiled. He couldn't believe it! He beat the jinchuuriki! The Hokage! The so-called "most powerful ninja in the village"!

All of a sudden, he felt pain in his chest area and his stomach. He couldn't breathe. It was as if something filled his lungs. He looked down at his chest and saw an arm pierced through.

"This justsu does not belong to you, Hakai," Naruto drawled. "There are only two people in the world who used the justsu and used it responsibly, but unfortunately, you killed them both."

Naruto's eyes were cold and empty when he met his eyes to Hakai's golden hues when he murmured:

"I'm surprised you managed only to damage my left kidney."

Hakai choked, gasping for air only to breathe in the blood that was creeping up to his mouth. He coughed the metallic taste of iron and sea salt spraying onto his tongue.

 _What?!'_ Hakai screamed mentally. _'I had him!'_

"It takes more than that to kill a jinchuuriki Hokage, Haikai Shinjichou," the Hokage muttered, venom lacing his every word. Hakai looked up and witnessed the fearsome Hokage's eyes transform from cold cerulean to crimson red that almost looked as if they were glowing; his pupils mutated to slits. And the piercing demon-like eyes stared down at Hakai like predators.

The last thing Hakai heard before he died was the low growl of a, **"You disappoint me, Hakai Shinjichou."**

Naruto won the war. But at what cost?

He was alone. There was nothing. No one. Not a single soul he could sense.

Hinata, Boruto, Himawari, Kakashi, Iruka, Sasuke, Sakura-they were all gone. All of them wiped out of existence and flying in the wind like dust, floating and uniting with each other.

The former Hokage of the fallen Konoha was alone, and he failed to protect everyone. He reached into his shuriken bag and reached for a long piece of fabric that had a metal plate screwed into it. Once he felt it, he slowly pulled it out, recalling the time when he earned it. The metal plate that was engraved with a swirl and a small triangle; a symbol of the leaf.

But now there was no leaf.

No trees.

No bushes.

No Konoha.

He limped over to the river that carried blood and dust.

"Kurama," Naruto whispered.

 **"What do you need, kit?"** the fox mumbled.

Fat tears rolled down the Uzumaki's cheeks as he finally felt the feeling of war settle down. Naruto Uzumaki was alone once again, and this time, there were no friends, no Jiji, and no Iruka to ease his heart. To relieve the pain that was stabbing through his weak heart.

"If I am to live, please just kill me," he sobbed for the first time in years. He clutched the hitai-ate to his chest, trying to feel the warm feeling he felt long ago.

The Kyuubi growled **, "This is pathetic."** Now the blonde was being selfish. Die? For keeping a promise and fulfilling it? **"Why would you want to die? For being a hero?"**

"I AM NOT A HERO!" the blonde screamed. "I let everyone die. I let the KIDS die! The FUTURE of KONOHA. ALL OF THEM ARE-" he stopped, took a quick breath, "are-" he did the same thing. But he couldn't say it. There was a lump in his throat that shut him up.

 ** _I hadn't seen the kid like this since he was informed of everyone wanting to kill the Uchiha brat,'_** the bijuu thought worriedly, though he would never admit it.

He sighed, **"It's okay kit, just rest. You're exhausted and worn-out. I'll give you some time to figure things out."** Though he hated comforting these bags of flesh, he disliked seeing the bag of meat he cared about being sad even more.

Naruto did feel exhausted, but he was afraid. Afraid of seeing their disappointed faces again. Fearful of having to see Iruka frowning and sadly saying, "I shouldn't have trusted you."

But he needed to rest.

He looked at the river and gently rested the head protector into the water, watching it sink down and down and down.

He curled up next to the river and closed his eyes, succumbing to the gracious hold of sleep.

"Naruto," he heard someone whisper. Her voice was echoing calmly like the echoes of raindrops of water.

"Naruto," he heard again, this time a choir of people joining in.

Who were they?

 ** _.To be continued_**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Naruto," the woman's voice sang. "When you wake up, everything will be better. You won't remember anything."

"What do you mean?" Naruto quelled, suddenly alarmed hearing a woman's voice. "Who are you?!" Everyone was supposed to be dead. Gone. Gone with the wind that circled the earth. This woman-she wasn't even supposed to be talking to him. The dead do not speak.

"Who I am does not matter. You broke so many promises, lost so much hope and yet you fulfilled a single promise," she hummed, her whispers circling him.

Naruto scowled, "I didn't meet it. Everyone died. I-"

"YOU DID!" the woman interrupted with a screech. Her voice sounded similar to a broken and out of tuned piano. This somehow reminded Naruto of the killing intent Sakura gave off when the blonde pissed her off. This memory silenced the hokage.

The lady sighed, "You did not fail. You won the war, did you not?"

"But everyone DIED!" Naruto spat, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from pouring. "I promised Iruka that I would do what I can to protect the village. But I failed!"

The woman giggled, "But you see, he said to do anything you can. You promised him that you would with hope. You can still fulfill that promise, Naruto." Naruto fell silent. Did this crazy person really think that a village of people-who were burned to dust-would just revive and carry on with life as if nothing happened? Did she think that the Hokage-who had watched his friends burn-move on with life and suddenly act all happy? As if the war never happened? As if he didn't hold his friends' corpses tightly in his arms?

Bull.

"How exactly do you think I can accomplish this promise?" Naruto hissed. He just wanted to die. Was that really too much to ask? He missed his children. He wanted to see his wife. He yearned for his friends. He really REALLY wanted to die.

"I cannot explain this to you in a way you can understand," she sighed. "But when you wake up, you will not remember anything. Any events leading up to this you will not remember. Your memories will be no more, but your goal will remain."

Naruto groaned, "What goal? "

The woman laughed, "You will know"

"How will I know if I don't remember anything?" Naruto asked.

"Instincts!" The woman cheered. Though, it was more of a forced happy cheer than a genuine one.

"Do I have a choice?"Naruto groaned. He hoped the matron to be kind and say yes because he just wanted to die.

The lady replied with a simple, "Nope!"

Before a single thought came to mind, a white light engulfed him like waves of a tsunami. Naruto couldn't help but scream. He was scared. He didn't want to forget where he came from. He didn't want to forget his friends. He didn't want to forget his family.

This fear choked him. Suffocated him. He couldn't breathe. His whole body burned. It was as if he were drowning in thick tar, nipping his skin with burns and adhering to him like glue. His lungs were begging for oxygen as the light absorbed him.

Naruto felt light-headed from the pain and dizziness he was feeling. The feeling of thick, burning white asphalt soon turned to thin blankets of cold water.

The cool quilts carried him off into darkness. His limbs felt numb, and he still couldn't breathe. His whole body felt light, but at the same time, heavy. It was as if he were floating with the universe's weight on his shoulders.

The blinding white light slowly dimmed to pitch black darkness.

.

.

.

It was cold. Not the kind of cold that was winter, but the cold that was when you bathed in a pool of water in the spring.

His lungs filled with air that it was begging for, but it too was cold. It was fresh, and it smelled like pine and wet grass. The breeze that calmed his burning lungs made him want to breathe in more of it.

"...up…..wake…"

Multiple voices surrounded him. They were stifled, but he could still sort of make out what they're saying.

He fluttered his eyes open and was greeted with four blurred figures.

The blurred figure that was right beside him began to shift. "He's… akin...up!" They cheered. His head was spinning. His whole body was trembling from the cold that nipped his skin.

"Sakura," the blonde mumbled, smiling at the blurred figure. Although his head might've been scattered like Humpty dumpty's shells, he knew something was awry. He knew this person wasn't Sakura. So why did he say her name? More importantly, who was Sakura?

Who was he?

Another blurred figure with a head that matched the petals of sunflowers moved toward him.

"Who are you, son?" he asked, his voice sincere and caring.

Naruto thought for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows and searching through his hazy memories. Suddenly, he winced, feeling something drilling a hole through his head, digging through his memories and taking what is important-or was important. He tried to remember something. Anything. He needed to remember. What was his name?

'Name. What is my name?'

He was cold and hungry. He was exhausted and hurting both mentally and physically, but he didn't know why. He didn't care. All he wanted to know at that moment was his name.

'Name… My… name…' Were the last thoughts that swirled through his mind before everything darkened to black.

.

.

.

A glint of red flickered into the distance. It appeared in the darkness like a star in a dark, hopeless void. Although far away, he could feel its power and warmth.

"You are not ready to see me yet," it whispered. "You're too weak."

The blue-eyed boy raised an eyebrow, inwardly asking what that voice meant. It didn't answer. Just repeated the same words.

 **"You're too weak…"**

 **"Too weak…."**

 **"Too weak…"**

The words repeated. With each repeat, the pitch of the voice seemed to go up. Soon, the words were almost vague. Eventually, the sound turned into loud beeping that echoed from the darkness. Practically like it was calling his name in muffled beeps. With every pound of his heart, the beeping called.

He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness of the ceiling that reflected the rays of the sun. He sat up, the feeling of the silk bed sheets clinging onto his sweaty form. He remembered the cold, suffocating grasp of icy water. He remembered gulping down large amounts of water while thrashing around as the hands of the river dragged him deeper down.

The boy shivered. His body still felt cold, mainly because he woke up with his body covered in cold sweat.

He shifted, the familiar comfort of the mattress cradling his lower body; but for some reason, he was not used to it.

The patient's back was stiff, and the foam bed was too comfortable. It was so comfortable to the point it was uncomfortable.

He couldn't remember the last time he slept on a bed. Actually, he couldn't remember anything at all, which lead him to think something was amiss. Or perhaps, his mind was just still groggy.

'Yes,' he thought. 'I just woke up. No need to stress about it.'

Somehow he convinced himself that his mind was only in jumbles because he had just woke up. Nothing more, nothing less.

He breathed in the air that smelled of old carpet and alcohol, but he expected to smell something more substantial. Heavy like something was burning, but he couldn't pinpoint what it could have been.

Shaking it off, the blue-eyed patient looked out the open window, watching and waiting for…Something. He didn't know what it was, or why he was doing it. It was nearly second-nature, or at least felt like it.

He observed the scenery. Leaves swayed and cast shadows over patches of grass. Butterflies were fluttering their wings as they swallowed up their sweet beverages from flowers. Birds were on a branch, guarding their nest until the eggs hatch.

This was not important. He knew it wasn't. He knew it was normal. He knew there was nothing special about a tree or a patch of grass. He knew this was not special, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling overjoyed. He couldn't prevent the warmth filling his chest or the heaviness from his shoulder from lifting. He didn't care.

The warmth, the lack of weight, the feeling of his mouth turning up, it felt nice.

He stared at the tree and the bluebirds that twittered about. For what seemed like the first time in a while, he felt content.

But that didn't stop the nagging feeling of something significant missing. It was annoying. Like a piece of a puzzle missing from an almost completed picture. Now he was trying to find that one small puzzle piece.

A creek came from the door, interrupting his search for his answer.

His head quickly turned to the door. He found himself glaring at the person who entered the room.

A small woman entered with a clipboard. She wore a white dress that stopped above her knees. Her brown hair was tied into a bun. She had a hat with a red cross adorned in the middle of it.

She turned around and jumped slightly, a look of surprise graced onto her features.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "You're awake!" The small lady hobbled over to the patient's bedside, a relieved smile stretched onto her face.

The blue-eyed boy stared blankly at the older nurse, then looked down at her feet. One of them

She babbled on, "I hope you're doing well. We were so worried! You've been asleep for weeks and-" she stopped talking. The small lady gasped after spacing out, "Oh dear Kami! You must be parched! I'll get you some water!"

Before the boy could even say anything, the nurse dashed out the door, her leg still awkwardly trying to keep up with the other.

He watched the door, awaiting her return.

Another nurse entered a few seconds after without knocking. Unlike the other nurse, she looked a little more mature and had violet hair that was tied in a ponytail.

"Excuse me," she announced in a low and calm voice, "The Hokage has arrived."

 _ **A/N: Hey guys! This is the chapter you guys have waited for. I'm sorry it seems so rushed considering how much time I had to make this. There is no excuse as to why I did so, so I am very sorry. Alright, see you next chapter! :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A white cloak and a hat, a prominent figure, the patient guesses. A brown beard and a very stern gaze.

In the back of his head, there is a small voice that is happily calling out a name. A possible vague memory so familiar and comforting, yet so sad and far away.

" _Ji-"_

"I see you have awoken from your slumber," the old man says, crossing his arms. His eyes are cold and hard, but there is something soft and warm hidden behind those cold eyes.

The young boy doesn't say anything but nods, suddenly feeling his shoulders stiffen.

 _No matter how familiar with another person you are, you still have to remain on guard._

"What is your name?" The Sandaime asks calmly, though, at the same time, his voice harsh.

The boy furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hands. This should be an easy question, so why can't he remember it?

"My… name…." the boy starts. He shuts his eyes closed, "name… is…"

"Lord third, this boy may not remember anything. There are multiple damages to his brain," she says.

"Let him try," the old man urges, "we don't know for sure if he actually is an enemy spy or not."

The nurse nods slowly and exists the room.

Silence.

"Child, what is your name?" The older man asks suddenly, tone of voice softer this time.

The patient jumps at the sudden noise, eyes wide and scarred hands squeezing the soft blankets.

"I- I," he stammers.

"Take your time."

" _The name's ❒◆⧫□ ?_ _￢ﾌﾘ◆❍_ _& !" _

"My name is…."

" ❒◆⧫□ _?_ _￢ﾌﾘ◆❍_ _& !"_

"I…"

" ❒◆⧫□ _?_ _￢ﾌﾘ◆❍_ _& !"_

He can't hear it. Every time the little voice obnoxiously yet quietly yells out the words, they are muffled and silenced.

"I don't remember. I'm sorry," he mumbles, heart thumping hard against his chest. His eyes looks up to the older man's brown orbs and the boy's body trembles.

The old man's eyes are soft and understanding, looking down at the cerulean hues distantly. The patient doesn't understand why. Why is he looking at him with such a kind look, and why does it feel so familiar?

"I see," the Sandaime sighs. "If you don't even remember your name, then there is no reason you have any ill intentions against Konoha, correct?"

Blue eyes look from the blankets to the Sandaime and back to the sheets.

The Hokage coughs and explains, "My name is Hiruzen Sarutobi. As you already know, I am the Sandaime Hokage. Right now, you are inside the hospital in Konohagakure."

The boy nods his head.

Hiruzen continues, "Unfortunately, nobody knows anything about you." At this, the boy deflates. "But we do know you are an Uzumaki judging from the unmistakable garnet red hair."

Garnet red?

The boy pulls down his bangs and almost goes crossed-eyed trying to see his hair. Wasn't it supposed to be blonde?

The old man told no lies. His hair is indeed a shade of red and not a sunshine yellow.

Was it always red?

"Uzumaki?" The boy breathes, now looking at Sarutobi. It's a foreign yet familiar name, like a certain scent you can remember, but at the same time can't. Still, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

"Uzumaki," he repeats. "'Tebbayo."

 _ **AN: Hi guys! It has been awhile, hasn't it? I hope this chapter will be okay. It's a bit short but I've been having writer's block recently. I decided to change up the style a bit, so I'm going to go back and edit a few things from the story. I will also change things from the first three chapters as I am not happy with them. I realized that putting author's notes as chapters are not allowed, so I will try not to do that. I will also take out those author's notes lol. Also, sorry if my grammar is a bit off, English is not my first language. I will update when I can. Thank you for your patience!**_


	5. Chapter 5

The Uzumaki looks blankly at his reflection. There is something strange about it, but at the same time, there isn't. He is around forty inches in height. He's skinny, but not thin enough to look malnourished. This is not precisely the problem, nor was it as weird as the whisker-like scars on his cheeks. The problem was that the boy looks around four years of age, yet his body is littered with healed lacerations.

Cerulean eyes dim slightly, something happened, yet for some reason, he cannot recall what that "something" was. Something tells the Uzumaki that whatever happened wasn't right.

"Ayumu," the gruff voice of Hiruzen alerts the redhead. The name the Hokage has given him is temporary. Just a label until he remembers his right name.

"Hokage-sama," he quietly replies. Ayumu's body is tense, like a soldier waiting for a command. His voice is quiet but dangerous as if he were assassin whispering dispositions to the wind. This manner seems to surprise and sadden the older man.

"Please, Sarutobi-san is fine." Hiruzen sighs. "Formalities get tiring sometimes." The Uzumaki feels a foreign warmth from deep within. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp what this fragile sensation is.

Faltering, the redhead says, "I...Understand."

Sarutobi Hiruzen, "Although I have asked you not to call me by formality, that does not mean you are not clear of suspicion."

Ayumu nodded. Of course, they wouldn't trust him immediately. From what he's heard, this village is going through a war. The enemy can send an assassin or spy.

"I trust that you will tell the truth, but I will not take the risk of you lying to me. For that, Yamanaka-san will put a jutsu on you to refrain from telling any false pieces of information."

Ayumu nodded once again. Seeing this, Hiruzen turned to the open door and nodded once. A tall man with blonde hair and light blue eyes enters, a calm yet stern expression is plastered on his face. The jounin did a few hand signs and stood still.

"You can begin," the Yamanaka said.

For what seemed like many hours, the questions finally stopped. They finally confirmed that the Uzumaki was innocent, but there was still something extraordinary, and not in the right way. Upon the many questions, 'how old are you' was the most straightforward question, if not 'what is your name.'

All of the questions were either replied with 'no' or 'I do not know.'

"All of the answers were honest," the Yamanaka gapes, a solemn expression following afterward.

The Hokage stands still, thinking things over.

Hiruzen decisively nods, "I will talk to the elders about turning you to a Konoha citizen."

Yamanaka-san whips his head towards the leader. "B-but Hokage-sama-"

Sarutobi Hiruzen holds up a hand, silencing the blonde, "I will have people watch over you until then."

Ayumu's expression twitched, the corners of his mouth indecisive about pulling upwards or remaining stoic. There is a momentary glint in his blue eyes.

Refraining from exclaiming, he bows and says, "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

 **A/N: Hello. I sincerely apologize for the unnoticed and extremely long hiatus. I will try to focus on posting often. I hope you forgive me. Thank you**. **This chapter is a bit short, however next chapter will be longer. Thank you for your patience...**


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